No Matter What They Say
by MizzSpiegel
Summary: Vegeta is questioning his life and is wondering what would have happened if Frieza hadn't blown up his planet?
1. Default Chapter

"No Matter What They Say"

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A/N: For all of our cruel amusement, here's a Vegeta fic.

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters.

Chapter 1: Past

Vegeta's POV:

I find that I've been asking myself this quite a bit lately: 

What would have happened if Frieza had never existed? 

Would I have ever gone to earth and settled myself there? This question has loomed in the back of my mind for countless years now. If someone would have told me that the crazy, loud, babbling woman, Bulma would be my wife, I would have killed them on the spot thinking that I was just putting another lunatic out of his misery.

Now when I think this, I figured that it might not have been fate that brought me to earth. I remember cursing Frieza every day for blowing up my planet. What would have happened if I had been able to take the thrown after my father. Would I have ever known what people call love? 

Sometimes when I think these things, I wonder if I would have been better off ruling the planet after my father, or maybe it was for the best that it was destroyed. I would've never known the joy of having children with a woman that I actually loved. I may have gotten a chance to have children on Vegeta-sei, but because I wasn't aloud to love, would it have been worth it? 

"Hey, dad. What's up?" Trunks asked looking across the dinner table at his father.

'That damn kid ripping me from my deep thoughts as usual' I cursed in my mind.

"Nothing, why?" I asked bitterly.

No reason, I guess you just looked kinda, I dunno, deep in thought or something." Trunks said as he looked back down at his plate of food.

"If I looked like I was deep in thought, don't you think I would want to stay there?" I commented angrily.

"Vegeta, he was just worried that there was something wrong. Why are you so testy tonight?" Bulma said defending her son. "Besides, he's only thirteen, is it ok for him to make a few mistakes every now and then?"

I decided not to answer her. I knew very well that arguing with the woman was futile. There was nothing I could do except for sit silently eating my food. She obviously didn't realize that I was pondering important things, otherwise she may have been more understanding. But I decided not to mention this either, I knew if I did, she would make me tell her what I was pondering, and I wasn't about to tell her. 

In the past when I hadn't been aware of the emotional effect it would have on her, I would tell her when she asked what I was thinking, but it seemed the subject brought her to tears. She claimed that she didn't like the thought of never knowing me, she didn't think she could stand living if that had been the case.

I had often wondered if that was the case. I also had disturbing thoughts of what she might be truly thinking when I talk about things like 'what if Frieza had never come and I never came to earth'. Once I even thought the real reason was because she couldn't bare the thought of me in bed with another woman and having her bare my children. I never asked her this, however. 

When she cried, it ripped my heart out. Whenever she did cry, I thought it was something I said or did, and often times that is the case. Those times are the times that I wish I could just rip my arm off for hurting her. These are the times that I truly know that I am in love with the woman. I realize this because, on Vegeta-sei, the men would torture women into tears for a mere sport. I had always liked these things, but whenever I made Bulma cry, it was as though someone had stabbed me with a dagger right my heart.

"May I take your plate, father?" Trunks asked Vegeta not looking at him. I had been thinking all through dinner and now Trunks was clearing. 'Oh well, I wasn't hungry anyway' I thought to myself moving back to let Trunks take my plate.

"I'm going to go put Bra to bed, Vegeta. Can you help Trunks with the dishes?" Bulma asked picking Bra up out of her high chair.

"The brat can do it himself." I said getting up from the table and walking off towards the GR.

"Vegeta! Where are you going, you need to help Trunks with the dishes!" Bulma yelled.

"I'm no maid." I said waving my hand carelessly. Bulma looked daggers at my receding back and went upstairs to put Bra to bed.

*fin

~_S saiyan Vegeta4013_


	2. Why

"No Matter What They Say"

When I first started this fic, I was thinking why not have the whole thing in Vegeta's perspective? But then I got this really clever idea to have it in the perspectives of everyone that Vegeta's around. Am I good or what? If you'd like to see a train wreck, then read on, my friends. Oh yeah, good luck, I have a feeling you'll need it. Lol.

Disclaimer: Wish I owned 'em.

Chapter 2: Why…

Bulma's POV

As I set Bra gently down into her crib, I heard the murmur of the GR being turned on. 'That Vegeta, I swear I sometimes think it wasn't worth it to even marry him' I thought to myself bitterly. I tried to erase the anger from my mind while tucking Bra in, but the fact was, I wasn't sure what had been on Vegeta's mind all through dinner. This always bothered me. I mean, we've known each other for over fifteen years and yet he can't even open up in the least bit to me. I've often thought of seeking marriage counseling, but I figured that would anger him even further, and no one in this house needs that.

I often wonder what's going on in Trunks' and Bra's minds when Vegeta and I fight the way we do. I was sure when they were younger, that I would be the best parent and Vegeta would always be at my side coaching and loving them as well as I. But all I can think that we did to them was traumatize them, and it angers me to think that my children have always been the ones to comfort me rather than my husband.

Through all of his rough manner on the outside, Vegeta is soft. I know this because he wouldn't have been at the hospital when his children had been born. I know this because he wouldn't have married me. I know this because he told me he loved me. I have many reasons to believe that he is a loving and caring man, but all the excuses in the world could not make up for his constant taunting and teasing, however small. 

It stings like hot iron to the skin whenever he calls me names like bitch or wench. I know he wouldn't do it unless he didn't care, but the fact that the transition between Yamcha being a big romantic flirt and Vegeta being a careless bastard was sometimes too hard for me to bare. I often wonder why I claim to love him. 

I would never even think of divorce, for putting that burden on the already troubled minds of my children would be irresponsible and just plain cruel. That and the fact that I do in fact love Vegeta….

"Good night, sweetie." I said to Bra as I switched off the light.

I went down stairs and the sound of clattering dishes and running water met my ears. This caused a sudden jolt of anger. 'Why does Vegeta have to be so stubborn? All I asked him to do was help his son with the dishes. I wonder what was on his mind all through dinner?' I entered the kitchen and as my son's eyes met with mine, I saw the bitterness of Vegeta in them. I wanted to cry. I wanted to comfort my son. I wanted to do anything to ease the anger that was ebbing in his heart. His stare was so cold, and I knew he wasn't angry with me, but the piercing stare was enough to stab anyone in the heart with guilt.

"Trunks, I'm sorry about your father." I said trying to comfort him in the least bit I could.

"Why do you always defend him?" Trunks asked bitterly.

"Trunks…"

"Answer me, mom. All he does is cause you pain, and then you defend him. I don't get it, why do you put up with him?"

I wanted to break down into tears in my son's arms like I often find myself doing. But I had to muster all the self-control I contained to continue to stare into his eyes.

"I'm not sure I understand you, son." I lied

"Mom, do you know how many times you've cried in my arms? In your son's arms?"

I chose not to answer. If I had kept count of all the times I took shelter in my son, I wouldn't have been able to count any higher. A single tear escaped down my cheek but in one swift stroke I quickly discarded it.

"Smooth, mom. I almost didn't see that tear." His eyes grew colder yet he made his way over to me in an attempt to comfort me. "Let me answer my own question then. I don't think you nor I could keep count as high as you have cried in my arms. But one thing I do know is that the reason is always Vegeta."

I looked at him. He put an arm around my shoulder and eventually his other met it. He now had me in his tight embrace. I wanted to stay in it, he had always brought comfort to me, but I couldn't let him comfort me this time. He was the child here, not I. My own selfishness drove my son to believe that he had to comfort me when in fact I should be the one to comfort him. I drew back from him with a scowl.

"Do you give me no credit?" I asked. The only thing I could say at this moment was an insult.

"I don't know what you're talking about, mom?"

"First of all, you are to call your father, father. Are we clear?" I spoke in a harsh tone in order to get the point across. It worked.

"Crystal." Trunks sighed. 

"And to answer your question, the reason I put up with your father is because I love him."

"Can't you hear yourself? That's always your excuse. I know you don't mean it. He probably doesn't mean it either. It's not like he actually ever says it."

"You obviously don't know your father or me very well." I spat.

"Sure I do. I think it's you that doesn't realize that Bra and I hear every single one of your arguments with him. Do you know how many times you've brought Bra to tears because of your constant yelling? Why can't you and dad just get along for the sake of your daughter?" Trunks asked.

Again I looked into his eyes and saw his father in them. He was so mature for his age, and the reason was because he always had to be the adult in the house. He was always the policeman who tucked Bra in when I was too caught up with work or in an argument with Vegeta. He was always the responsible and reasonable one, and always took Vegeta's crap. He was mostly an optimist except when he figured someone had gone too far.

"Trunks, I'm sorry for everything. I realize how hard it must be on you kids." I looked down at my hands and pretended to be occupied with a speck of dust on them.

"Mom, I don't think you do understand. Look, I can take care of myself and even Bra if need be, the only thing I want is for you and dad to get along." He reached over and lifted my chin to meet his gaze. I blushed. 

"You don't understand how much that hurt, Trunks. Yet, you do not understand that Vegeta and I show our affection through arguing. I know it must be hard for you to comprehend, but it's the honest to god truth." I stated as I yanked my face free of his grip and pulled him into a tight motherly hug. He seemed to enjoy my embrace. I was glad he would even let me hold him in a motherly fashion.

"Mom, I'm sorry. I should've been more observant." Trunks said looking up at my face.

"Don't be sorry, Trunks. I must admit, it does seem like a very weird way of showing affection, and I do wish that your father could be a little more romantic for the sake of you kids. But that's just a crazy dream that will never come true." 

I started to laugh hoping that it would lighten the mood a little. Trunks began to laugh as well.

"Maybe he can become more of a romantic. Maybe we can get someone to convince him to be a romantic." Trunks looked hopeful. It was quite obvious that he wanted me to be happy. I realized what a good kid I had…well, I guess he kind of raised himself. But never the less, he was very mature and intelligent for his age.

We began to plan how we would make Vegeta a better romantic. Through all of our hopeful thinking, I knew that it was a hopeless cause. Vegeta would never be more of a romantic. Little did I know, however, that Vegeta had been listening to out whole conversation.

*fin

Whose POV should I do next? Please gimme some ideas. Thanx.

Lovies ^o^

~_S saiyan Vegeta4013_


End file.
